


even Time

by dianna44



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (sort of on that last tag you'll see), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Communication, Complicated Relationships, Depression, Implied Alchohol Poisoning, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Insecurity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Time Skips, Time Travel Fix-It, Time acts as fate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 17:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8905531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianna44/pseuds/dianna44
Summary: "After minutes, hours, days, weeks, Victor finally pulls back, but that passion, that fire, that love that usually exists within his eyes are filled with disgust, with sadness, with horror, and if Yuuri was anybody else, he might have mistaken those feelings to be aimed at him, but Yuuri isn’t anybody else, and has been with Victor for months now, almost a year, knows him almost as well as he knows himself, and Yuuri can see that Victor is disgusted with himself."in which yuuri and victor get it wrong until time comes in and allows for them to get it right





	1. "author's cut"

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY HI WOW!
> 
> I've been working on this story idea for WEEKS now, and have written the majority of it in the past three hours, but I planned it out weeks ago, and planned this story out to the CORE, and wow, I've never been one for planning stories and let me tell you, it works. 
> 
> okay, so this story is my baby, and I'm proud of it (not really proud of my other works), but there are things you must know! (edit: it's only been a few days, and I already hate it lol)
> 
> this story is split up into two mini-alternate universes of the same story, but changed. it goes back and forth in my own version, but the second chapter of this story is the exact same thing, but in chronological order. the "original" story of victor and yuuri go from these numbers:  
> ( .1, .2, .3, .4, .5, .6, .7, .8, .9, 1.0 )
> 
> the "fixed" story of victor and yuuri start off from the original story of ".8" and are indicated by + marks such as:  
> ( .8+, .9+, .95+, .96+, .97+, .98+, .99+, 1.0+ )
> 
> THEY GO BACK AND FORTH IN MY ORIGINAL DRAFT OF THE STORY. I think there is a very different effect and emphasis on things when read each way, my intended version and the chronological version. :)
> 
> you can tell which part you're reading from the number at the top of the listed section! the very first part of this story (ergo the part you're about to read) is not involved in the time line truly and acts as the change from the original timeline to the "fixed" timeline. :)
> 
> (also side note when I first published a story in this fandom there were like 200 fics :'') and I just checked and there's like over 4,000 already what the heckkkk omg)

**∞**

 

_He moved like a dying angel. He—_

“No, not yet,” Time whispers. “Go back a little more.”

_Maybe this is a dream, but even if it was—_

“Further,” Time presses.

_He can’t stop screaming. He’s shouting, screaming, existing so—_

“Not here,” Time says.

_It’s bright out, the sky a glorious haze of shared laughs. It’s—_

“More,” Time pleads.

_Summer is the absolute worst season, and he doesn’t know why—_

“Here,” Time says, smiling as the clock resets.

 

 

**.1**

 

Summer is the absolute worst season, and he doesn’t know why the earth’s rotation and cycle bother to include it at all. He completed university and received a degree that means nothing to him in return. Nowhere else to go, he went back home.

Bad decision-making on his part.  

“Yuuri! Come help clean the sauna!” his sister shouts.

_Honestly, what the hell._

He uncrosses his legs from where he’s seated on the bed, and staring at the door, he contemplates whether to help her or not.

Ah, he’s too good of a person. Shit.

Yuuri stands up, and makes his way to the sauna quickly, bypassing his sister completely.

The sauna takes half an hour to clean.

When he finishes, he transports the towels into the washer, and leaves the cleaning supplies out for his sister.

He goes back to his room, gets under his covers, and falls back asleep.

Forty-five minutes later, his sister barges into his room, scaring him awake, and says, “Thanks for helping!” before promptly shutting the door.

Yuuri simply stares up at his ceiling. He wishes he could see the stars.

 

 

**.8**

Distance has always been something that Yuuri excelled at especially when the world seemed to start collapsing around him and the air seemed to grasp at his throat. Yuuri’s never had enough relationships of any sort, however, to understand how to fully accept Victor’s distance from him.

Victor isn’t telling him something, and with every slow response, with every hush of tone, with every anxious look, the air only becomes thinner and thinner.

He texts Victor that he wants to see him. It’s been almost a week, and they’ve never gone that long without seeing each other. Yuuri needs to see him, he wants to see him, he _craves_ Victor so much now, and Victor isn’t allowed to just shut himself away like this when he knows how much that messes with Yuuri’s mind.

Victor texts back that he’ll be over soon. Yuuri responds with a red heart.

Victor doesn’t respond at all.

Twenty long minutes later, Yuuri hears knocks on the door, and that alone makes his stomach churn. Victor hasn’t knocked on the door in months. He even has a key. Yuuri stands up shakily, but manages to stumble over to the door to open it.

And there he is. It’s almost nighttime, and Yuuri sees the setting sun contrast against Victor’s shape and soul.

“Victor,” he breathes out, reaching to hug him because Yuuri’s _missed_ him. He’s missed him _so much._ Maybe there are some that would view that as strange. It’s only been a week after all, but nothing has compared to this. Nothing before compares to this, and Yuuri knows his heart is completely captured by Victor. Victor’s told him the same regarding his own.

Victor stiffly hugs him back for a moment, but he quickly melts into the embrace. Yuuri almost starts to cry against his shoulder. He just doesn’t understand what’s been going on. He’s so so worried. So incredibly worried and anxious.

As he pulls back to allow Victor to come in, he starts to smile. He stops abruptly, however, when he sees how sad sad sad sad sad Victor looks. His eyes are downcast, and his posture is still stiff.

It’s obvious to Yuuri then that he doesn’t want to be here.

Yuuri can’t feel his heart beating any longer. Blood rushes to his head, and Victor is gazing at him now, sadness all over his face.

“Yuuri?” Victor asks softly. Yuuri can only stare back. Usually, Victor would have already sensed his worry and would have immediately hugged him. He would go on to explain his love for Yuuri. He would go on and speak of all the wonders he wants to show Yuuri.

Victor doesn’t even take a step to do anything. He just stares, completely open yet completely closed off, looking utterly helpless.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” Yuuri suddenly states, his heart jumping from his throat as it melds itself into the words released into the world. Victor flinches.

“Yuuri,” is all he says, and that isn’t _enough_. Victor makes no action to even appear like he wishes to say more, and that pisses Yuuri off.

They’re still standing near the entrance as well. It’s uncomfortable. It’s unnatural. The air is thick and thin, and the ceiling seems to be slowly crumbling away to collapse on Yuuri, but Yuuri can’t care he can’t care he can’t care because _what’s going on with Victor?_

“Victor,” Yuuri tries again, the strain evident in his voice. Victor doesn’t say a fucking word. “ _Victor_.”

Victor makes no sound. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing. There’s so much _here_ , Yuuri can tell. There’s so much to _say_. There’s so much, but Victor isn’t doing anything at all.

Yuuri feels helpless. He feels like a child, and he feels unimportant. He feels nothing and everything.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Yuuri says then, and Victor’s gaze snaps to him, eye contact finally being established again. Yuuri takes a deep breath and takes another step back. “I don’t know what’s going on, Victor, but I want to know.” Victor clenches his jaw, shaking his head slowly. Yuuri glares at him, but continues nonetheless. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I love you. I love you, Victor. Now, I think I want you to leave.”

Victor’s eyes drop down again, and Yuuri wants to scream to cut the tension between the pair of them. Victor stands there for a few more seconds before nodding and turning back to face the door.

Yuuri begins to panic. No no no no no—Yuuri abruptly grabs onto Victor’s arm, Victor immediately stilling.

“You’re… you’re coming back, Victor,” Yuuri says. He can’t dare himself to ask it. He needs to state it. He needs Victor to know that he has to come back.

A long pause.

Victor gives a short nod, clears his throat, and says, “I love you, Yuuri.”

Pulling away from Yuuri’s grasp on his arm, Victor opens the door and leaves.

As soon as the door shuts, Yuuri collapses, the dark oceans in his mind beginning to flood his very being.

(He can’t stop screaming. He’s shouting, screaming, existing so dreadfully, but at the same time, he says absolutely nothing at all.)

 

 

**.4**

“You’re very handsome, you know,” Yuuri says, when Victor skates back toward him. Victor rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, but you’re even _cuter_ ,” he practically purrs. Yuuri rolls his eyes back, but he smiles anyway. Upon seeing Yuuri’s smile, Victor practically glows with pride.

“You do that every time, would you _stop_?” Yuuri laughs, reaching over the wall of the rink to try and playfully push Victor away. Victor just catches his hands instead, moving them up so he can nestle his cheeks against each hand.

“What do I do?” Victor asks, mirth bright in his eyes. Victor leans forward to capture Yuuri in a sudden kiss, and Yuuri blushes.

 _“T-tease_ me!” he exclaims, and Victor laughs loudly. He’s about to respond, but one of the girls in Victor’s class calls for him, and Victor just directs a pout toward Yuuri before promptly skating off to help the girl.

Yuuri watches Victor show the girl how to properly balance herself before moving onto the next kid and so on and so on.

Victor’s proper famous, and Yuuri thinks it’s the absolute sweetest thing for him to take a few years off to travel the world and teach students, nonprofit. When Yuuri asked why, Victor simply responded by saying, “I have money. I don’t need payment to teach others my passion.”

Yuuri had practically swooned when he first heard that. That was also their first kiss because by swooning, Yuuri meant he leaned forward and kissed Victor without even thinking really.

Victor, however, took control soon after, and Yuuri blushes from remembering it.

He looks away from where he was staring back at Victor, who’s already staring at him fondly. Victor gives him a wide wide smile that Yuuri knows is specifically reserved for him, and he has to bite his inner check to stop himself from grinning like an absolute fool.

Yuuri’s never really been in love, but he thinks that this can be the start.

He’s a lucky one indeed.

 

 

**.9**

When Yuuri wakes up, Victor is no longer beside him. And he feels it then. Deep inside. Deep down. And it _hurts_.

Yuuri doesn’t have to glance around the room to know, but he does anyway, taking in the empty spaces, taking in the cleanliness, taking in the picture of Yuuri’s life, but not Victor’s.

Yuuri doesn’t have to read the note to know, but he does anyway, reading the carefully chosen words weaved in sentences that talk of Victor’s absence, that talk of reasons discussed, that talk of his love for Yuuri, but never actually mentions _why_.

Yuuri doesn’t have to rummage through his house looking for something, _anything_ , but he does anyway, calling out for Victor hesitantly at first, note clutched in hand, before it crescendos into him screaming Victor’s name and collapsing against the back of the couch as he cries and cries and cries.

Victor left him. Victor left him.

Victor left him, and Yuuri doesn’t even know _why_.

Hurriedly, Yuuri goes to his phone, desperate to talk to him, to _call_ him, to at least _understand why_ , but as Yuuri grasps onto his phone finally, his hopes sink.

There are no notifications and Yuuri’s background has been changed to Yuuri goofily smiling at the camera. It was taken by Victor.

Yuuri’s previous picture had been Victor himself.

Yuuri’s hand shakes as he goes to his contacts.

No Victor.

Tears drop onto the phone as he goes to his messages.

Deleted.

The absolute worst part of it all though is the realization that Yuuri can still easily attain Victor’s contact information. His sister has it. His mother even has it. He can get it from any of his old students’ parents. It’s so easy to.

Yet Victor still deleted them. He still deleted them, and that says everything.

Yuuri throws his phone across the room, and sobs his fears and loves and worries and memories.

 

 

**.8+**

 

Distance has always been something that Yuuri excelled at especially when the world seemed to start collapsing around him and the air seemed to grasp at his throat. Yuuri’s never had enough relationships of any sort, however, to understand how to fully accept Victor’s distance from him.

Victor isn’t telling him something, and with every slow response, with every hush of tone, with every anxious look, the air only becomes thinner and thinner.

He texts Victor that he wants to see him. It’s been almost a week, and they’ve never gone that long without seeing each other. Yuuri needs to see him, he wants to see him, he _craves_ Victor so much now, and Victor isn’t allowed to just shut himself away like this when he knows how much that messes with Yuuri’s mind.

Victor texts back that he’ll be over soon. Yuuri responds with a red heart.

Victor doesn’t respond at all.

Twenty long minutes later, Yuuri hears knocks on the door, and that alone makes his stomach churn. Victor hasn’t knocked on the door in months. He even has a key. Yuuri stands up shakily, but manages to stumble over to the door to open it.

And there he is. It’s almost nighttime, and Yuuri sees the setting sun contrast against Victor’s shape and soul.

“Victor,” he breathes out, reaching to hug him because Yuuri’s _missed_ him. He’s missed him _so much._ Maybe there are some that would view that as strange. It’s only been a week after all, but nothing has compared to this. Nothing before compares to this, and Yuuri knows his heart is completely captured by Victor. Victor’s told him the same regarding his own.

Victor stiffly hugs him back for a moment, but he quickly melts into the embrace. Yuuri almost starts to cry against his shoulder. He just doesn’t understand what’s been going on. He’s so so worried. So incredibly worried and anxious.

As he pulls back to allow Victor to come in, he starts to smile. He stops abruptly, however, when he sees how sad sad sad sad sad Victor looks. His eyes are downcast, and his posture is still stiff.

It’s obvious to Yuuri then that he doesn’t want to be here.

Yuuri can’t feel his heart beating any longer. Blood rushes to his head, his thoughts overwhelm him completely, and he feels _Time_ starting to swirl around him, and so he falls.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaims, immediately rushing to catch him. Yuuri is hurting so much, and he doesn’t even know _why_.

“Victor, what’s wrong?” he asks, starting to cry. Victor looks guilty. He looks so fucking guilty. And just so so sad. “You’ve been ignoring me,” Yuuri cries. “You’ve been completely and utterly the _worst_ boyfriend!” Victor flinches, but it’s not in a bad way. It’s in a way that starts to calm Yuuri down. He feels guilty. Good. Good.

“Yuuri,” he says, his own voice starting to choke up, and somehow that’s _enough_.

They’re still standing near the entrance as well. It’s uncomfortable. It’s unnatural. Yuuri cries, as he pushes back to try and stand up. Victor rushes to help, and Yuuri accepts it.

“Let’s… let’s go sit on the couch,” Yuuri manages to say through his crying, and Victor nods wordlessly. They make their way to the couch, and both collapse down onto it, practically on top of each other. It’s comforting.

“Victor,” Yuuri tries again, “what’s wrong? Please, I need to know, love.”

Victor purses his lips, looking away guiltily. Yuuri hates this feeling. Yuuri feels helpless. He feels like a child.

Yet he knows he isn’t that at all. Especially when it comes to Victor.

Yuuri brings his hand up to Victor’s cheek, who immediately leans into it. He moves Victor’s gaze toward him, and Yuuri is still crying, but he can pretend for a moment that he’s not.

“Please tell me.”

Victor doesn’t say anything, but his entire body starts to shake, and he starts to openly sob.

“My… my mama is in the hospital. Something happened, and she collapsed. And… and I want to go to her, Yuuri. But… but she doesn’t love me.”

Yuuri’s only vaguely heard of Victor’s mother since they started dating, and Yuuri’s always been curious of course, but he never thought to push it. Victor needs some pushing now though.

“What do you mean?” Yuuri asks, his heart afraid of where this could go. Victor leans into Yuuri, clutching onto him like a life force.

“S-she kicked me out when I was sixteen. Right when I won the World Championship the first time. She… said she didn’t want a fag living in her house,” Victor chokes out, and Yuuri cries for _him_ now. Yuuri says nothing, and Victor goes on. “Yet she told me she still loved me. But she kicked me out, and said I was an embarrassment and that I should return when I’ve learned to love a woman.”

“But… you do love women. You’re bisexual,” Yuri says, talking to himself mainly, and Victor gives a wry laugh.

“She said I was lying, and that I needed to choose one or the other, and when I told her I couldn’t just choose, she kicked me out.” Yuuri nods, his heart hurting so unbearably so. Victor continues to speak. “I can only see her again if I’m with a woman or if I lie to her and say I don’t like men.”

Yuuri swallows down his heart. “Do you want to see her again?”

Victor looks at him then, so insecure, yet so sure. He nods slowly. “I do, yes.”

Yuuri gives a tight nod. “I love you either way. You do whatever you need to do.”

Victor doesn’t move, still just crying softly against Yuuri. Eventually, he nods shakily in return.

“Okay, yeah, thank you.”

 

 

**.7**

Yuuri has never felt happier. Victor tugs at him, claiming they had to see every inch of the city to truly explore it all, and Yuuri lets himself be dragged along by him. Victor is fire, Victor is water, Victor is earth, Victor is air, and Yuuri can breathe so fully and so beautifully.

Victor makes Yuuri feel beautiful, and Yuuri is so completely enamored by the beautiful man in front of him.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Victor stresses, trying to get Yuuri to walk faster. Yuuri rolls his eyes, but walks faster nonetheless, his hand warm in Victor’s tight grasp.

Victor is warmth, Victor is the chill in the air, Victor is the rain, Victor is the sea, Victor is the ice, Victor is the sky.

Yuuri watches the way the muscles in his back contracts, Yuuri watches the way Victor’s hair moves with him, Yuuri watches Victor’s arms point out silly things, and Yuuri doesn’t know what to do with himself except feel so incredibly happy, so incredibly at home.

Finally, they apparently reach their destination, and Victor pulls Yuuri to him, his arm immediately coming to rest at Yuuri’s waist. Yuuri sets in comfortably against Victor, and turns to finally look at what Victor is so keen to see.

The sea. Of course.

“You remind me of the sea, Yuuri,” Victor says then, breaking the silence of their breaths mingling together and disappearing into the waves. Yuuri cannot believe such a man exists. Cannot believe that this man beside him has read his thoughts and said the same thing Yuuri was just thinking. Cannot believe his hand is in this man’s hand. Cannot believe out of all the people in this world, they found themselves next to each other and living so alive.

Yuuri considers himself so lucky indeed. Victor just squeezes Yuuri’s hand when Yuuri says nothing, but thinks everything.

Yuuri wouldn’t care if the world was burning around him, he wouldn’t care if the sky was exploding above him, wouldn’t care if the ground was shaking beneath him, he’s with Victor, and Victor is with him, and even the sun and moon are jealous of them.

Yuuri smiles, and Victor smiles just as blindingly back at him.

Very lucky indeed.

 

 

**1.0**

 

Yuuri isn’t one to drink. He becomes too much of someone he doesn’t consider himself as, and when he does drink, he forgets he forgets he forgets what happened what happened who he is who he is who he is.

Yuuri isn’t one to drink, but he’s had too much sake, too much of that whiskey and vodka Victor introduced to him, too much of the poison that ruins his mind. Yuuri isn’t one to drink, but he’s drunk now, and all he wants is to forget about Victor Nikiforov.

It doesn’t seem to be working.

He never did find out why Victor left. He never did talk to him again, never did get to see his eyes again, never did get to hear his voice again, never did get to breathe next to him again, never did get to kiss him, to be near him, to love him again.

(He still loves him.

It’s been too much time, but Yuuri isn’t one to drink and Yuuri isn’t one to drink yet Yuuri hasn’t stopped drinking since that man left him

he loves him he loves him he loves him he loves him.)

His sister told him last week that she doesn’t recognize him anymore. His mother and father do not know what to do but they continue to offer their endless support. His friends are too nice to him, which makes them even crueler.

Yuuri is cruel. So is Victor.

The cruelest of relationships.

Yuuri isn’t one to drink, but that night, his thoughts are too loud so so loud that he drinks himself to where he never wakes up again.

(In the start of the beginning and end of the end, _Time_ decides that this isn’t right.)

 

 

**.6**

 

“You’re too cute stop,” Victor pleads as he lets his lips drag across the back of Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri blushes, but doesn’t move his hand away. This is Victor. This is okay. This is one of the only things that feels right to him. Victor releases Yuuri’s hand, and doesn’t do anything after that. Only stares at Yuuri, and Yuuri feels so exposed, so naked, but it’s okay because it’s Victor.

Yuuri knows he’s only psyching himself out. His heart is racing, his thoughts are fireworks, his mind is the galaxy, and he is unstoppable.

Yuuri kisses him, flushed heart and flushed body, and Victor reacts immediately, and Yuuri can feel their hearts meld together into one, and Yuuri can feel their thoughts race against each other, and Yuuri smiles into the kiss, and Victor smiles back.

They lose each other completely that night, and the sky explodes colors.

 

 

**.97+**

 

“Yuuri,” Victor says immediately when Yuuri picks up the phone. They’d been talking over the phone for a long while now, but this is different, this is guilt, this is dread, this is love that is lost, and Yuuri’s breath catches.

“Victor?” he asks. Does he want to know? No, no, he doesn’t want to know. He has to know he needs to know he must know.

And then Victor starts to cry. Not the kind of crying that’s loud, not the kind of crying that can’t be heard, but the kind of crying that’s more like choking, that’s more like horror and guilt, the kind of crying Yuuri doesn’t want to heart.

“Victor?” he tries again, his heart stuck in his throat. He doesn’t want to know he doesn’t want to know he doesn’t want to know. “What is it?”

“I don’t deserve forgiveness, and I-I don’t deserve you,” Victor chokes out, and Yuuri _does not want to know this_.

“Victor, tell me,” he says. ( _Time_ looks away, knowing what comes next.)

“My mother introduced me to some woman a while ago, Yuuri. She isn’t important, she isn’t important, but my mother introduced her to me and said it was her dying wish for me to meet a woman and fall in love with her, and my mother, my mother has already died, Yuuri.” Yuuri can’t breathe. Yuuri can’t speak. Yuuri can’t move a muscle, and he tries so very hard to ignore his own tears starting to fall. Victor goes on. “I slept with her, Yuuri. I slept with this woman who isn’t important to me. I slept with her, and she stayed the night, and I did it for my mother, who I imagined would have smiled in response and said that she was finally proud of me, and I smiled because of that, Yuuri. I smiled because I made my dead mother proud, but I don’t know who I am living for, Yuuri. I slept with someone who means absolutely nothing to me while someone who means absolutely everything to me was across the world, knowing nothing, but probably feeling everything painful because of me.”

Yuuri is crying, he knows he is, but he still can’t say a word. He knows why Victor did it. He knows they weren’t technically together anymore. He knows it’s been a gradual build up back to the relationship he thought they could have had. He knows all of this, but fuck, it hurts _so goddamned much_.

“Yuuri, there is nothing that I could say to make up for this, but I will say that I love you with all of my heart, I will say that you are the sky, the sea, the sun and the moon, the whole fucking _universe_ to me, and you can walk away and leave for the rest of my life, but I’ll be waiting for you.”

Yuuri should have expected this earlier on. He knows he isn’t worth anything, not worth Victor’s time, not worth Victor’s love. He should have expected this. He should have expected this. Why didn’t he ignore his heart, and follow his thoughts?

Why didn’t he listen to the sad boy who’s always been nothing but hurt? Why did he listen to the happy boy inside of him that has smiled only recently and meant it.

Yuuri’s heart feels like it’s breaking into pieces of meaningless words and lies.

“I love you, Victor,” Yuuri says because throughout it all, he does. He knows Victor loves him too. He knows Victor isn’t much himself right now either with his mother having dying and all. He knows Victor didn’t cheat on him, but fuck, it _feels_ like he did.

It _feels_ like Victor doesn’t care for him at all. It _feels_ like the worst sort of pain in the world, and Yuuri can’t bring himself to comfort Victor, can’t bring himself to comfort his own miserable self, can’t bring himself to want to be alive right now, but can’t bring himself to kill himself either.

Yuuri hears Victor gasp, and he knows he’s going to feel the need to explain more, to apologize more, to be the best person that Victor is and will always be, but Yuuri can’t do it right now, can’t allow his heart to break more than it has.

Yuuri hangs up.

 

 

**.5**

By winter, Yuuri is in love with him. By winter, Victor tells Yuuri the same. By winter, they’ve found each other so well, and are nothing if not themselves around the other. By winter, they’re in love and so good to each other and so good for each other.

By winter, everything that may have been cold a year ago is warm with their kisses of love and giggles. By winter, they start to talk of their future and start to talk of meadows of flowers coming up soon and they start to talk about who they are to each other and who they could be to each other.

By winter, it is no longer summer, and that is perfectly okay. By winter, each season seems just as good as the last if not better. By winter, Yuuri looks forward to spring, to summer, to autumn, to winter to spring summer autumn winter spring summer autumn winter—

“Love you always,” Victor tells Yuuri as they sip hot chocolate together by a fire.

“Love you always,” says Yuuri to Victor as they throw snow at each other and fall against each other, claiming it’s for warmth, but knowing it’s for each other.

“Love you always,” Victor smiles against Yuuri’s skin, watching him bloom underneath him, and watching the flush cover his body.

“Love you always,” Yuuri whispers lovingly as he lightly outlines Victor’s face with his hand before coming to a rest on his lips, and then leaning over and kissing him, waking Victor up to love and dreams and winter.

“Love you always,” they claim together as they ask each other silly questions and go ice-skating together and watch the children they could one day have together scream happily and laugh loudly.

By winter, they’ve found each other so well, and love each other so well, and are with each other so well that even winter has found itself quite enamored by the pair of them.

 

 

**.95+**

Victor is screaming, is sobbing, is yelling with as much force and hurt and horror and guilt and betrayal as anyone when finding out their mother has died.

Yuuri tries to hold him down, and Victor turns and cries against him, sobs wracking throughout his entire body as if an earthquake as erupted within his heart, and Yuuri doesn’t know what else he can _do_ for this lovely man in front of him who deserves nothing except happiness and love, but has felt nothing but sadness and love.

“ _She’s DEAD_!” Victor screams, and Yuuri’s heart is breaking breaking breaking for him, and he holds onto him even tighter, not allowing himself to cry because he has to be strong for Victor, has to be strong for this beautiful man who loves his mother but also hates her.

 _(Time_ would cry too if _Time_ could.)

“She died, and she hates me. She’s disappointed in me. I was never the son she wanted, and she was never the mother I thought she could be, but I loved her, I loved her, I loved her and why is she _dead_ , Yuuri? _Why does she have to be gone?_ ”

Yuuri wishes he could say something like “Your mother loved you for you” or something like “she would have been proud of you,” but Yuuri didn’t know Victor’s mother, and Yuuri doesn’t like to lie to anybody, especially Victor. Maybe if he did say it, it wouldn’t be a lie, but how was Yuuri to know that or not?

He holds him tighter, and wishes for good things to come Victor’s way.

After minutes, hours, days, weeks, Victor finally pulls back, but that passion, that fire, that love that usually exists within his eyes are filled with disgust, with sadness, with horror, and if Yuuri was anybody else, he might have mistaken those feelings to be aimed at him, but Yuuri isn’t anybody else, and has been with Victor for months now, almost a year, knows him almost as well as he knows himself, and Yuuri can see that Victor is disgusted with himself.

Disgusted with himself for hugging a man while crying over his dead mother who hated Victor because he hugged and loved men as well as women.

So, Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor flinches back from Yuuri’s touch, and Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor stands up abruptly and claims that he has to go, and Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor won’t meet his gaze as he kisses Yuuri’s cheek forcefully, and Yuuri isn’t surprised when he rushes out of the room, the door slamming shut, and Yuuri isn’t surprised by his own heart breaking with every action, but it still hurts like _hell_.

Yuuri isn’t surprised when he starts to cry for himself and for Victor for hours and hours afterwards.

Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor later texts him that he’s gotten on a plane to go back home and that he loves him, but he can’t do it right now.

Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor doesn’t text him anything again for a long long long time.

Yuuri isn’t surprised Yuuri isn’t surprised Yuuri isn’t surprised, but his heart has shattered shattered shattered.

 

 

**.9+**

“I just… I know you’re going to leave me, Victor,” Yuuri forces himself to say, and Victor freezes.

“I’m not,” he responds immediately. He takes a step toward Yuuri. “Why would you think that I am?”

“You want to see your mother,” Yuuri says. “You want to see your mother, and for you to do that, you have to leave me, and I-I understand, Victor. It’s okay. Really.”

Victor is frowning, and Yuuri isn’t breathing. Yuuri is drowning, Yuuri is soaring and then falling, Yuuri is simply existing.

“I won’t leave you, Yuuri. You love me. My mother doesn’t,” Victor finally says softly, and Yuuri can tell that he means it. Yuuri can tell that Victor believes that, but Yuuri knows better.

“You are though. And it’s okay, Victor. I don’t know when you are, but… can you please tell me? Please don’t leave without saying goodbye. At least text me or something.”

Victor has finally realized that he shouldn’t be saying things like he won’t leave, but instead comforting Yuuri that if he does, he’ll tell Yuuri and he’ll tell Yuuri how much he really does love him. ( _Time_ nods, hoping it works out this time, it has to work out it has to work out, even the winter fell in love with them.)

“I’ll text you. I promise,” Victor says, “I’m also not leaving though.”

Yuuri decides against any more of this arguing, this bickering. He decides against wasting the time he had left with Victor disagreeing about the future, and instead, moves to lean against him, dragging him down to sit on the couch with him.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore, love,” Yuuri says, and Victor wants to disagree, but he sees the fear in Yuuri’s eyes, and realizes that maybe he should let it go.

“Agreed,” Victor says, and they kiss each other because they love each other.

 

 

**.2**

 

Yuuri hates the summertime, but perhaps he hates himself just a bit more. He’s sad, so sad that he actually looks forward to winter, or autumn or spring because at least then, there lies the possibilities of the scenery changing, his mood changing, something _changing_.

Today, he helped his sister and mother clean dishes and clean the house.

Today, he did absolutely nothing besides that and aimlessly checking his phone every minute, waiting for something, _anything_.

Today, Yuuri wanted to exist even less, but figured it was too much effort right now.

Today, Yuuri isn’t happy, but that’s just like yesterday and that’s just like tomorrow.

Today, nothing has changed at all, and Yuuri wants to scream and float in the universe or find love or some absolute shit like that.

 

 

**.96+**

It’s almost one in the afternoon apparently when Yuuri wakes up. His phone was ringing, and Yuuri doesn’t know who could possibly be calling him now. (He’s not important he’s not important he’s not important.)

Another second passes, however, and Yuuri stills, wondering if… maybe possibly… could it be? He reaches for his phone, and doesn’t dare to look at the contact name as he brings it up to his ear.

“Hello?” he asks, and deep down, he already knows who it is, already knew who it was since the ringtone Yuuri hadn’t heard in so long woke him up.

“Yuuri,” Victor says, and Yuuri _misses_ him. Yuuri doesn’t sit up, and doesn’t move his legs or arms or anything like that. He just remains still and with one cheek pressed against the pillow, he finally allows for himself to breathe.

“Victor,” Yuuri responds shakily, and Victor gives a wry laugh then. It’s full of love though, and Yuuri tries not to notice that.

“I’m calling,” he said. Yuuri smiles at that, and briefly wishes he could hate Victor forever and immediately hang up, but knows why he left, even urged him to leave, understands that family plays an important role in people’s lives, understands what his mother dying meant to Victor.

He wonders if Victor has learned to accept himself better.

(He doesn’t dare ask. Not right now. Not in the first phone call in months.)

“You’re calling,” Yuuri repeats because maybe he himself doesn’t quite believe it yet. Maybe he still thinks he’s dreaming. Maybe this is a dream, but even if it was, it’s better than the nightmares he keeps having.

“I missed you,” Victor says. “I’ve missed you since before I left, Yuuri.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri breathes out. “Yeah, I know.” And Victor is finally saying the right things. Victor is finally saying the things that Yuuri wants and needs to hear.

“I love you dearly,” Victor continues on to say, “I miss you, and I want to hug you, and I want to remember what you smell like, and I want to come home.”

“Not now, Victor,” Yuuri finds himself saying, afraid that Victor is still lying to himself. “Have you found who you are?”

Victor’s breath catches, and that alone is enough for Yuuri to know that Victor still needs time away from him. Victor still needs to learn who he is and accept things about himself that Yuuri simply cannot help him with no matter how much he wishes he could try.

“Yuuri….” Victor starts to say.

Yuuri cuts him off. “I don’t want you to come home right now, Victor. Come home when it’s ready for you to come home, Victor.”

Yuuri tries not to focus on Victor not considering Russia as his home any longer. Yuuri tries not to focus on Victor’s short breaths, and fearful stammering.

“I love you, Victor,” Yuuri says, and he means it. He will always mean it.

“I love you, Yuuri,” Victor says, and Yuuri knows he means it. (Always? Yuuri doesn’t know.)

“Call again, Victor,” Yuuri says, and Victor is halfway through saying “Of course” when Yuuri ends the call.

(Yuuri is strong Yuuri is strong Yuuri is strong.

It doesn’t feel like it at all.)

 

 

**.99+**

 

Yuuri decides to leave Japan to travel with himself and for himself across the world he has barely seen but a tiny part of. He decides to travel to look for something, perhaps love for himself, perhaps acceptance, perhaps culture or even food, he doesn’t know. He’s searching for places and wishes to travel amongst them. He needs a change of scenery.

He needs different versions of winters, different versions of springs and summers, different versions of autumns. He needs different seas and oceans to look at, he needs different viewpoints of the moon and sun, he needs different anything unlike what Victor meant to him. He’s not trying to run away from Victor.

He has confidence they will find each other again, somehow, someway in the future, but not right now because right now, they love each other too much to truly love each other well, and they need to be apart, far from each other.

Yuuri keeps telling Victor to find himself, but perhaps Yuuri needs to find himself as well.

He says goodbye to his mom, to his sister, and friends, and boards a plane, and travels to anywhere and everywhere.

He feels that _Time_ is with him for this journey. He hopes he’s correct.

(He is, _Time_ notes amusedly.)

 

 

**.98+**

“This is the last time I want to talk to you for a while, Victor,” Yuuri says. “Don’t say anything. Let me talk. And then let me go. Okay?”

“Okay,” Victor says, and nothing else. Yuuri nods, and gives a sad smile. He knows Victor can’t see him, but he also knows Victor is right here beside him.

“I love you, Victor. I’ve loved you for over a year now, and I understand why you did the things you did. I understand your feelings and I understand you, and I forgive you.” Victor’s breath catches, but he doesn’t say anything. Yuuri is pleased he doesn’t. “I forgive you. I’d forgiven you months ago, Victor. Before you even left, but I stepped back for my own feelings. I love you so dearly, Victor, and I know that you love me too, but for where we are now… where we are in our minds and emotions, we, together, would be too much for each other. We would ruin each other. Now,” Yuuri takes a deep breath, “I’m not saying we should never get together again. I’m not saying I’ve stopped loving you because I haven’t. I’m not saying we won’t ever be good for each other because we would be the _best_ together just as we had been in the past, Victor. But I need _Time_. I need for our moments together to completely stop for a bit. I need you to truly realize that loving men holds no wrong bearings, and I know that might be selfish to some, but I know you understand why. I need for you to be completely and utterly okay with our love, Victor. You’ve always been reserved about it, which I understand. I _understand_ , and with the recent events with your mother, you’ve been beaten down. I’m sorry. I’m sorry it had to be like that, my love.”

Yuuri takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes as he does his best to keep away thoughts of Victor being beside him, holding him, loving him so fully. Not now not now not now.

“If we are meant to meet again, Victor, I believe that with _Time_ , we can become the very best for each other and for ourselves. Do you understand?”

He knows Victor does. Victor is so smart, and so capable, and so much better than Yuuri, and both communicate so well with each other because they _understand_ each other.

“I do, Yuuri, yeah, I understand,” Victor says. “Can I speak now?”

Yuuri doesn’t say anything.

“I think you’re right, Yuuri. I agree, and I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish I didn’t grow up hating myself for liking men, and I wish so many things regarding my mama… but life didn’t go that way, and here we are, and I love you so much, and I can’t wait to meet you again in the future, Yuuri. Because I believe that we’ll meet again. Most definitely. And I can’t wait to live my entire life showing love like never before, Yuuri Katsuki.”

Yuuri smiles against the phone, and his heart hurts, but his heart is filled with relief and love and acceptance.

“I love you, Victor Nikiforov.”

“I love you, Yuuri Katsuki.”

The phone call ends, and their future begins.

 

 

**1.0+**

Summer is the absolute worst season, and he doesn’t know why the earth’s rotation and cycle bother to include it at all. Especially in South America. He’s only been here for a few months as opposed to the years in Australia, and then Africa. Yuuri is almost thirty years old, and maybe that’s saying something about something, but he still enjoys travelling just as much as he did when he started at twenty-four. Yuuri has picked up a few different phrases in different languages since then, and he’s happy he’s gotten to meet as many people as he has.

(He’s also glad he learned English in school, and improved it upon meeting V—)

There’s no ice in South America. At least not right now. Summertime has always been Yuuri’s least favorite season, but perhaps he’s a little biased with how much he loves winter and with how much winter loves him.

The last time he told someone that, they looked at him quite strangely, and Yuuri only laughed.

He goes to North America today, and perhaps he’s a bit sad that he is to leave South America so soon, so much still to be travelled, but he wants to be home for his thirtieth birthday next year and he promised his sister that he’d visit California and take pictures for her.

(She just wants to see pictures of those classic American surfer men that she fawns over in movies.)

When Yuuri arrives at the airport, it’s loud and crowded and maybe Yuuri should be used to this, but he isn’t and he dislikes it as always.

His plane departs in an hour, and once he gets through security and eats something, it’s time for him to leave, and well, Yuuri has never been to California, so hopefully, it is at least a little bit like what the world praises it as.

He’s able to sit first class on his travels now as he makes money off his travels and makes money teaching things his degree allows him to teach. (He also came into a large amount of money a few years back, and he knows who it’s from, but he doesn’t like to think about it.)

In first class, all the seats are secluded from the other and Yuuri sees that he’s one of the first ones on the plane. The hostess offers him a variety of drinks, and Yuuri only asks for a water, as he settles himself into the plane’s comforts. The waitress drops off a menu as other passengers start to board, but Yuuri is too tired to focus on them and turns so others are unable to see him. He just wants some peace for once. He falls asleep easily.

He wakes a few hours later to a jolt in the plane, and his eyes open, taking in the darkness outside the window, and he asks a flight attendant for some more water, which she seems happy to provide.

“Thank you so much,” Yuuri says, and she nods, giddy to do something. She seems bored, and Yuuri knows that feeling all too well, so he continues conversation with her.

“How long have you been a flight attendant?” he asks.

“Oh, this has to be my… sixth year, perhaps?” she says.

“Why did you want to become one?” he asks, smiling, as he takes gradual sips from his water.

“Well, my boyfriend left me, and then took all of my stuff with him, and I decided I wanted to get away, and I had just seen an ad online about becoming a flight attendant was the best way to go for some reason. I haven’t regretted it since,” she says, smiling widely. Yuuri’s heart pangs at the mention of an ex-boyfriend.

“I’m happy for you. It seems you found yourself in a sense, right?” he asks, hoping that doesn’t sound pretentious. He’s been told that before. Insecurities still drive him, but not nearly as much as before.

“I did, yes,” she laughs. “How about yourself?”

Yuuri looks out the window. “I would like to think so, yeah. I think I have found myself, whatever that even means.”

She becomes silent for a moment, as if distracted by something else in the cabin. Probably another person waking up and asking for water or something.

“I’m glad. I must go tend to someone else right now. I am sorry. I’ll be right back.”

Yuuri smiles at her. “It’s okay. I’ll probably just fall asleep again.”

She laughs, but heads off anyway. Yuuri settles back into his seat, wonders briefly if he should eat something, and just as he decided to sleep instead, the hostess is back. She looks nervous, and a blush is on her cheeks. Yuuri hopes this isn’t what he thinks it is.

“Uhm… can I ask you your name?” she asks. Yuuri blinks at her.

“Yuuri,” he responds. She nods, and excuses herself again, apologizing profusely. Yuuri just stares at the empty spot where she stood, but makes no move to do anything else. He puts his feet up on the seat in front of him. Is it even a seat? Perhaps it classifies more as a foot stool? Yuuri sighs, just wanting to sleep, but a shadow is back by the opening, and Yuuri wonders briefly what is happening.

Yuuri turns slowly as he says, “I think I’m going to just get some sleep now so it’s okay, don’t worry about m—”

“Yuuri,” Victor says, and Yuuri’s entire fucking world stops turning.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, and Yuuri’s _missed_ him so much, and Yuuri hasn’t seen him in _years_ and _years_ , and then Yuuri is crying because he’s thought of him twice today, and that’s less than usual so he briefly thought that maybe he had been falling out of love with him, but no, of course not, of course not, how could he think something so foolish? “ _Victor_.”

Victor collapses against him, and he realizes, belatedly, that the fool in front of him is crying as well, and they grasp at each other, and they realize with the passion in their hands, the warmth in their cheeks, the understanding between their souls just how much they still love each other.

“I found you,” Victor whispers reverently against Yuuri’s neck, and Yuuri shivers, briefly hoping that that flight attendant isn’t staring at them.

“And yourself?” Yuuri asks, even though he already _knows_.

Victor laughs, so happy and so astounded. “I found myself too.”

Yuuri laughs, so relieved and happy. “I’m so so glad.”

Yuuri kisses him, and they sigh against each other, having been in a drought for too long now.

“I love you always,” Yuuri whispers against Victor’s lips.

“I love you always,” Victor responds, smiling, as he allows Yuuri to straddle him. He moved like a dying angel. He moved like the waking waves. He moved like all the good things to come, and the bad things that remain in the past.

( _Time_ smiled, and the seasons cheered in response, the winter smugly looking at the summer, but the summer ignores the winter to love instead.

Even _Time_ fell in love with them.)

 

**.3**

Yuuri doesn’t know why he decides to visit the park today. The park with the ice-skating rink. He doesn’t even want to go ice-skating, but he wants to go to the park because he hasn’t been to the park in a while, and he misses seeing different things, and perhaps he’ll find some sort of happiness there.

(He doubts it.)

It’s nearing the end of summer, and Yuuri wants to sit on the park in the bench and watch the children play perhaps and hear the noises of life around him as opposed the noise of silence in his home and the shouts of his mother and sister of whom he loves very much.

It’s bright out, the sky a glorious haze of shared laughs. It’s actually just another day, but that’s okay, because when he arrives at the park, the first thing he sees is the ice-skating rink, which, surprisingly is being used by only one person, no less and no more.

The person is a man. He looks a little older than Yuuri, and Yuuri tries not to notice how pretty the man is as he skates over the ice, his head tilted towards the sky, and his arms spread out like an eagle preparing to take flight.

Yuuri sits on the bench in the park and watches the man for a few seconds, minutes, hours, maybe weeks or months, and then the man notices, and when he does, he stops skating.

He stops skating, as if frozen by _Time_ , and Yuuri can only stare back, and he knows then, he knows then that this means something, that this could be something, and he doesn’t even know how he knows this, and he doesn’t know what it really means, not truly, but then the man is skating toward him, and that doesn’t make sense, but it makes all the sense in the world.

Yuuri is so so sad, but in this moment, he isn’t sure sadness is a feeling that could possibly exist to him. (It’s overwhelming him, this feeling, this new sort of feeling, this attraction, this weird sort of understanding.)

The man has somehow found himself off the ice, and back into regular shoes (when did he do that?) and he walks toward Yuuri, who is still just sitting on the park in the bench with the ice-skating rink.

Finally, _Time_ slows down and Yuuri finds himself staring up at the man who is looking down at him, and there’s something there, and he knows the other can feel it as well (is this what soulmates are?), and finally, the man clears his throat.

“I’m Victor,” he says. Russian, Yuuri notes. How very strange, who is this man, what does this man mean to him, what will this man mean to him. _Victor_. Yuuri loves the name, and he’s afraid of any possible feelings for the man himself.

(He doesn’t feel sad.)

He bites his lip, and the man, _Victor_ , smiles back at him. Yuuri isn’t one to take huge chances, or be one to put his life on the line, and maybe that seems a bit dramatic, but Yuuri isn’t important enough, isn’t important enough, will probably only displease this beautiful man in the end, so Yuuri almost doesn’t say anything in response, but then he does.

“I’m Yuuri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay, you finished, congrats :) hopefully, you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> if you want to read it in chronological order and/or are curious about how it reads that way, head onto the next chapter! :) it's the same story, but presented differently, and I think it's rather neat. :)))
> 
> come check me out on my tumblr - iwannapandanamedchubs  
> or my victuuri tumblr - literallynothingbutvictuuri
> 
> :)


	2. "chronological cut"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE SAME STORY. 
> 
> so I changed nothing except for the order of it. 
> 
> it will go in the order of the original timeline, and then the fixed timeline :) .8 will be repeated twice in order to do a better comparison how time changed it then :)
> 
> also as for how time goes back until the whole "summer was the worst season" is just showing how time went back to see that much and see their story from the start to finish in an entirely different way so that will be how it ends :) it's time acting as if the entirety of the first original story has already been told, then going back to watch it from the start, and THEN it starts to meddle :)

**.1**

 

Summer is the absolute worst season, and he doesn’t know why the earth’s rotation and cycle bother to include it at all. He completed university and received a degree that means nothing to him in return. Nowhere else to go, he went back home.

Bad decision-making on his part.  

“Yuuri! Come help clean the sauna!” his sister shouts.

_Honestly, what the hell._

He uncrosses his legs from where he’s seated on the bed, and staring at the door, he contemplates whether to help her or not.

Ah, he’s too good of a person. Shit.

Yuuri stands up, and makes his way to the sauna quickly, bypassing his sister completely.

The sauna takes half an hour to clean.

When he finishes, he transports the towels into the washer, and leaves the cleaning supplies out for his sister.

He goes back to his room, gets under his covers, and falls back asleep.

Forty-five minutes later, his sister barges into his room, scaring him awake, and says, “Thanks for helping!” before promptly shutting the door.

Yuuri simply stares up at his ceiling. He wishes he could see the stars.

 

 

**.2**

 

Yuuri hates the summertime, but perhaps he hates himself just a bit more. He’s sad, so sad that he actually looks forward to winter, or autumn or spring because at least then, there lies the possibilities of the scenery changing, his mood changing, something _changing_.

Today, he helped his sister and mother clean dishes and clean the house.

Today, he did absolutely nothing besides that and aimlessly checking his phone every minute, waiting for something, _anything_.

Today, Yuuri wanted to exist even less, but figured it was too much effort right now.

Today, Yuuri isn’t happy, but that’s just like yesterday and that’s just like tomorrow.

Today, nothing has changed at all, and Yuuri wants to scream and float in the universe or find love or some absolute shit like that.

 

 

**.3**

Yuuri doesn’t know why he decides to visit the park today. The park with the ice-skating rink. He doesn’t even want to go ice-skating, but he wants to go to the park because he hasn’t been to the park in a while, and he misses seeing different things, and perhaps he’ll find some sort of happiness there.

(He doubts it.)

It’s nearing the end of summer, and Yuuri wants to sit on the park in the bench and watch the children play perhaps and hear the noises of life around him as opposed the noise of silence in his home and the shouts of his mother and sister of whom he loves very much.

It’s bright out, the sky a glorious haze of shared laughs. It’s actually just another day, but that’s okay, because when he arrives at the park, the first thing he sees is the ice-skating rink, which, surprisingly is being used by only one person, no less and no more.

The person is a man. He looks a little older than Yuuri, and Yuuri tries not to notice how pretty the man is as he skates over the ice, his head tilted towards the sky, and his arms spread out like an eagle preparing to take flight.

Yuuri sits on the bench in the park and watches the man for a few seconds, minutes, hours, maybe weeks or months, and then the man notices, and when he does, he stops skating.

He stops skating, as if frozen by _Time_ , and Yuuri can only stare back, and he knows then, he knows then that this means something, that this could be something, and he doesn’t even know how he knows this, and he doesn’t know what it really means, not truly, but then the man is skating toward him, and that doesn’t make sense, but it makes all the sense in the world.

Yuuri is so so sad, but in this moment, he isn’t sure sadness is a feeling that could possibly exist to him. (It’s overwhelming him, this feeling, this new sort of feeling, this attraction, this weird sort of understanding.)

The man has somehow found himself off the ice, and back into regular shoes (when did he do that?) and he walks toward Yuuri, who is still just sitting on the park in the bench with the ice-skating rink.

Finally, _Time_ slows down and Yuuri finds himself staring up at the man who is looking down at him, and there’s something there, and he knows the other can feel it as well (is this what soulmates are?), and finally, the man clears his throat.

“I’m Victor,” he says. Russian, Yuuri notes. How very strange, who is this man, what does this man mean to him, what will this man mean to him. _Victor_. Yuuri loves the name, and he’s afraid of any possible feelings for the man himself.

(He doesn’t feel sad.)

He bites his lip, and the man, _Victor_ , smiles back at him. Yuuri isn’t one to take huge chances, or be one to put his life on the line, and maybe that seems a bit dramatic, but Yuuri isn’t important enough, isn’t important enough, will probably only displease this beautiful man in the end, so Yuuri almost doesn’t say anything in response, but then he does.

“I’m Yuuri.”

 

 

**.4**

“You’re very handsome, you know,” Yuuri says, when Victor skates back toward him. Victor rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, but you’re even _cuter_ ,” he practically purrs. Yuuri rolls his eyes back, but he smiles anyway. Upon seeing Yuuri’s smile, Victor practically glows with pride.

“You do that every time, would you _stop_?” Yuuri laughs, reaching over the wall of the rink to try and playfully push Victor away. Victor just catches his hands instead, moving them up so he can nestle his cheeks against each hand.

“What do I do?” Victor asks, mirth bright in his eyes. Victor leans forward to capture Yuuri in a sudden kiss, and Yuuri blushes.

 _“T-tease_ me!” he exclaims, and Victor laughs loudly. He’s about to respond, but one of the girls in Victor’s class calls for him, and Victor just directs a pout toward Yuuri before promptly skating off to help the girl.

Yuuri watches Victor show the girl how to properly balance herself before moving onto the next kid and so on and so on.

Victor’s proper famous, and Yuuri thinks it’s the absolute sweetest thing for him to take a few years off to travel the world and teach students, nonprofit. When Yuuri asked why, Victor simply responded by saying, “I have money. I don’t need payment to teach others my passion.”

Yuuri had practically swooned when he first heard that. That was also their first kiss because by swooning, Yuuri meant he leaned forward and kissed Victor without even thinking really.

Victor, however, took control soon after, and Yuuri blushes from remembering it.

He looks away from where he was staring back at Victor, who’s already staring at him fondly. Victor gives him a wide wide smile that Yuuri knows is specifically reserved for him, and he has to bite his inner check to stop himself from grinning like an absolute fool.

Yuuri’s never really been in love, but he thinks that this can be the start.

He’s a lucky one indeed.

 

 

**.5**

By winter, Yuuri is in love with him. By winter, Victor tells Yuuri the same. By winter, they’ve found each other so well, and are nothing if not themselves around the other. By winter, they’re in love and so good to each other and so good for each other.

By winter, everything that may have been cold a year ago is warm with their kisses of love and giggles. By winter, they start to talk of their future and start to talk of meadows of flowers coming up soon and they start to talk about who they are to each other and who they could be to each other.

By winter, it is no longer summer, and that is perfectly okay. By winter, each season seems just as good as the last if not better. By winter, Yuuri looks forward to spring, to summer, to autumn, to winter to spring summer autumn winter spring summer autumn winter—

“Love you always,” Victor tells Yuuri as they sip hot chocolate together by a fire.

“Love you always,” says Yuuri to Victor as they throw snow at each other and fall against each other, claiming it’s for warmth, but knowing it’s for each other.

“Love you always,” Victor smiles against Yuuri’s skin, watching him bloom underneath him, and watching the flush cover his body.

“Love you always,” Yuuri whispers lovingly as he lightly outlines Victor’s face with his hand before coming to a rest on his lips, and then leaning over and kissing him, waking Victor up to love and dreams and winter.

“Love you always,” they claim together as they ask each other silly questions and go ice-skating together and watch the children they could one day have together scream happily and laugh loudly.

By winter, they’ve found each other so well, and love each other so well, and are with each other so well that even winter has found itself quite enamored by the pair of them.

 

 

**.6**

 

“You’re too cute stop,” Victor pleads as he lets his lips drag across the back of Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri blushes, but doesn’t move his hand away. This is Victor. This is okay. This is one of the only things that feels right to him. Victor releases Yuuri’s hand, and doesn’t do anything after that. Only stares at Yuuri, and Yuuri feels so exposed, so naked, but it’s okay because it’s Victor.

Yuuri knows he’s only psyching himself out. His heart is racing, his thoughts are fireworks, his mind is the galaxy, and he is unstoppable.

Yuuri kisses him, flushed heart and flushed body, and Victor reacts immediately, and Yuuri can feel their hearts meld together into one, and Yuuri can feel their thoughts race against each other, and Yuuri smiles into the kiss, and Victor smiles back.

They lose each other completely that night, and the sky explodes colors.

 

 

**.7**

Yuuri has never felt happier. Victor tugs at him, claiming they had to see every inch of the city to truly explore it all, and Yuuri lets himself be dragged along by him. Victor is fire, Victor is water, Victor is earth, Victor is air, and Yuuri can breathe so fully and so beautifully.

Victor makes Yuuri feel beautiful, and Yuuri is so completely enamored by the beautiful man in front of him.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Victor stresses, trying to get Yuuri to walk faster. Yuuri rolls his eyes, but walks faster nonetheless, his hand warm in Victor’s tight grasp.

Victor is warmth, Victor is the chill in the air, Victor is the rain, Victor is the sea, Victor is the ice, Victor is the sky.

Yuuri watches the way the muscles in his back contracts, Yuuri watches the way Victor’s hair moves with him, Yuuri watches Victor’s arms point out silly things, and Yuuri doesn’t know what to do with himself except feel so incredibly happy, so incredibly at home.

Finally, they apparently reach their destination, and Victor pulls Yuuri to him, his arm immediately coming to rest at Yuuri’s waist. Yuuri sets in comfortably against Victor, and turns to finally look at what Victor is so keen to see.

The sea. Of course.

“You remind me of the sea, Yuuri,” Victor says then, breaking the silence of their breaths mingling together and disappearing into the waves. Yuuri cannot believe such a man exists. Cannot believe that this man beside him has read his thoughts and said the same thing Yuuri was just thinking. Cannot believe his hand is in this man’s hand. Cannot believe out of all the people in this world, they found themselves next to each other and living so alive.

Yuuri considers himself so lucky indeed. Victor just squeezes Yuuri’s hand when Yuuri says nothing, but thinks everything.

Yuuri wouldn’t care if the world was burning around him, he wouldn’t care if the sky was exploding above him, wouldn’t care if the ground was shaking beneath him, he’s with Victor, and Victor is with him, and even the sun and moon are jealous of them.

Yuuri smiles, and Victor smiles just as blindingly back at him.

Very lucky indeed.

 

 

**.8**

Distance has always been something that Yuuri excelled at especially when the world seemed to start collapsing around him and the air seemed to grasp at his throat. Yuuri’s never had enough relationships of any sort, however, to understand how to fully accept Victor’s distance from him.

Victor isn’t telling him something, and with every slow response, with every hush of tone, with every anxious look, the air only becomes thinner and thinner.

He texts Victor that he wants to see him. It’s been almost a week, and they’ve never gone that long without seeing each other. Yuuri needs to see him, he wants to see him, he _craves_ Victor so much now, and Victor isn’t allowed to just shut himself away like this when he knows how much that messes with Yuuri’s mind.

Victor texts back that he’ll be over soon. Yuuri responds with a red heart.

Victor doesn’t respond at all.

Twenty long minutes later, Yuuri hears knocks on the door, and that alone makes his stomach churn. Victor hasn’t knocked on the door in months. He even has a key. Yuuri stands up shakily, but manages to stumble over to the door to open it.

And there he is. It’s almost nighttime, and Yuuri sees the setting sun contrast against Victor’s shape and soul.

“Victor,” he breathes out, reaching to hug him because Yuuri’s _missed_ him. He’s missed him _so much._ Maybe there are some that would view that as strange. It’s only been a week after all, but nothing has compared to this. Nothing before compares to this, and Yuuri knows his heart is completely captured by Victor. Victor’s told him the same regarding his own.

Victor stiffly hugs him back for a moment, but he quickly melts into the embrace. Yuuri almost starts to cry against his shoulder. He just doesn’t understand what’s been going on. He’s so so worried. So incredibly worried and anxious.

As he pulls back to allow Victor to come in, he starts to smile. He stops abruptly, however, when he sees how sad sad sad sad sad Victor looks. His eyes are downcast, and his posture is still stiff.

It’s obvious to Yuuri then that he doesn’t want to be here.

Yuuri can’t feel his heart beating any longer. Blood rushes to his head, and Victor is gazing at him now, sadness all over his face.

“Yuuri?” Victor asks softly. Yuuri can only stare back. Usually, Victor would have already sensed his worry and would have immediately hugged him. He would go on to explain his love for Yuuri. He would go on and speak of all the wonders he wants to show Yuuri.

Victor doesn’t even take a step to do anything. He just stares, completely open yet completely closed off, looking utterly helpless.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” Yuuri suddenly states, his heart jumping from his throat as it melds itself into the words released into the world. Victor flinches.

“Yuuri,” is all he says, and that isn’t _enough_. Victor makes no action to even appear like he wishes to say more, and that pisses Yuuri off.

They’re still standing near the entrance as well. It’s uncomfortable. It’s unnatural. The air is thick and thin, and the ceiling seems to be slowly crumbling away to collapse on Yuuri, but Yuuri can’t care he can’t care he can’t care because _what’s going on with Victor?_

“Victor,” Yuuri tries again, the strain evident in his voice. Victor doesn’t say a fucking word. “ _Victor_.”

Victor makes no sound. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing. There’s so much _here_ , Yuuri can tell. There’s so much to _say_. There’s so much, but Victor isn’t doing anything at all.

Yuuri feels helpless. He feels like a child, and he feels unimportant. He feels nothing and everything.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Yuuri says then, and Victor’s gaze snaps to him, eye contact finally being established again. Yuuri takes a deep breath and takes another step back. “I don’t know what’s going on, Victor, but I want to know.” Victor clenches his jaw, shaking his head slowly. Yuuri glares at him, but continues nonetheless. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I love you. I love you, Victor. Now, I think I want you to leave.”

Victor’s eyes drop down again, and Yuuri wants to scream to cut the tension between the pair of them. Victor stands there for a few more seconds before nodding and turning back to face the door.

Yuuri begins to panic. No no no no no—Yuuri abruptly grabs onto Victor’s arm, Victor immediately stilling.

“You’re… you’re coming back, Victor,” Yuuri says. He can’t dare himself to ask it. He needs to state it. He needs Victor to know that he has to come back.

A long pause.

Victor gives a short nod, clears his throat, and says, “I love you, Yuuri.”

Pulling away from Yuuri’s grasp on his arm, Victor opens the door and leaves.

As soon as the door shuts, Yuuri collapses, the dark oceans in his mind beginning to flood his very being.

(He can’t stop screaming. He’s shouting, screaming, existing so dreadfully, but at the same time, he says absolutely nothing at all.)

 

 

**.9**

When Yuuri wakes up, Victor is no longer beside him. And he feels it then. Deep inside. Deep down. And it _hurts_.

Yuuri doesn’t have to glance around the room to know, but he does anyway, taking in the empty spaces, taking in the cleanliness, taking in the picture of Yuuri’s life, but not Victor’s.

Yuuri doesn’t have to read the note to know, but he does anyway, reading the carefully chosen words weaved in sentences that talk of Victor’s absence, that talk of reasons discussed, that talk of his love for Yuuri, but never actually mentions _why_.

Yuuri doesn’t have to rummage through his house looking for something, _anything_ , but he does anyway, calling out for Victor hesitantly at first, note clutched in hand, before it crescendos into him screaming Victor’s name and collapsing against the back of the couch as he cries and cries and cries.

Victor left him. Victor left him.

Victor left him, and Yuuri doesn’t even know _why_.

Hurriedly, Yuuri goes to his phone, desperate to talk to him, to _call_ him, to at least _understand why_ , but as Yuuri grasps onto his phone finally, his hopes sink.

There are no notifications and Yuuri’s background has been changed to Yuuri goofily smiling at the camera. It was taken by Victor.

Yuuri’s previous picture had been Victor himself.

Yuuri’s hand shakes as he goes to his contacts.

No Victor.

Tears drop onto the phone as he goes to his messages.

Deleted.

The absolute worst part of it all though is the realization that Yuuri can still easily attain Victor’s contact information. His sister has it. His mother even has it. He can get it from any of his old students’ parents. It’s so easy to.

Yet Victor still deleted them. He still deleted them, and that says everything.

Yuuri throws his phone across the room, and sobs his fears and loves and worries and memories.

 

 

**1.0**

 

Yuuri isn’t one to drink. He becomes too much of someone he doesn’t consider himself as, and when he does drink, he forgets he forgets he forgets what happened what happened who he is who he is who he is.

Yuuri isn’t one to drink, but he’s had too much sake, too much of that whiskey and vodka Victor introduced to him, too much of the poison that ruins his mind. Yuuri isn’t one to drink, but he’s drunk now, and all he wants is to forget about Victor Nikiforov.

It doesn’t seem to be working.

He never did find out why Victor left. He never did talk to him again, never did get to see his eyes again, never did get to hear his voice again, never did get to breathe next to him again, never did get to kiss him, to be near him, to love him again.

(He still loves him.

It’s been too much time, but Yuuri isn’t one to drink and Yuuri isn’t one to drink yet Yuuri hasn’t stopped drinking since that man left him

he loves him he loves him he loves him he loves him.)

His sister told him last week that she doesn’t recognize him anymore. His mother and father do not know what to do but they continue to offer their endless support. His friends are too nice to him, which makes them even crueler.

Yuuri is cruel. So is Victor.

The cruelest of relationships.

Yuuri isn’t one to drink, but that night, his thoughts are too loud so so loud that he drinks himself to where he never wakes up again.

(In the start of the beginning and end of the end, _Time_ decides that this isn’t right.)

 

**∞**

 

_He moved like a dying angel. He—_

“No, not yet,” Time whispers. “Go back a little more.”

_Maybe this is a dream, but even if it was—_

“Further,” Time presses.

_He can’t stop screaming. He’s shouting, screaming, existing so—_

“Not here,” Time says.

_It’s bright out, the sky a glorious haze of shared laughs. It’s—_

“More,” Time pleads.

_Summer is the absolute worst season, and he doesn’t know why—_

“Here,” Time says, smiling as the clock resets.

 

 

**.8**

Distance has always been something that Yuuri excelled at especially when the world seemed to start collapsing around him and the air seemed to grasp at his throat. Yuuri’s never had enough relationships of any sort, however, to understand how to fully accept Victor’s distance from him.

Victor isn’t telling him something, and with every slow response, with every hush of tone, with every anxious look, the air only becomes thinner and thinner.

He texts Victor that he wants to see him. It’s been almost a week, and they’ve never gone that long without seeing each other. Yuuri needs to see him, he wants to see him, he _craves_ Victor so much now, and Victor isn’t allowed to just shut himself away like this when he knows how much that messes with Yuuri’s mind.

Victor texts back that he’ll be over soon. Yuuri responds with a red heart.

Victor doesn’t respond at all.

Twenty long minutes later, Yuuri hears knocks on the door, and that alone makes his stomach churn. Victor hasn’t knocked on the door in months. He even has a key. Yuuri stands up shakily, but manages to stumble over to the door to open it.

And there he is. It’s almost nighttime, and Yuuri sees the setting sun contrast against Victor’s shape and soul.

“Victor,” he breathes out, reaching to hug him because Yuuri’s _missed_ him. He’s missed him _so much._ Maybe there are some that would view that as strange. It’s only been a week after all, but nothing has compared to this. Nothing before compares to this, and Yuuri knows his heart is completely captured by Victor. Victor’s told him the same regarding his own.

Victor stiffly hugs him back for a moment, but he quickly melts into the embrace. Yuuri almost starts to cry against his shoulder. He just doesn’t understand what’s been going on. He’s so so worried. So incredibly worried and anxious.

As he pulls back to allow Victor to come in, he starts to smile. He stops abruptly, however, when he sees how sad sad sad sad sad Victor looks. His eyes are downcast, and his posture is still stiff.

It’s obvious to Yuuri then that he doesn’t want to be here.

Yuuri can’t feel his heart beating any longer. Blood rushes to his head, and Victor is gazing at him now, sadness all over his face.

“Yuuri?” Victor asks softly. Yuuri can only stare back. Usually, Victor would have already sensed his worry and would have immediately hugged him. He would go on to explain his love for Yuuri. He would go on and speak of all the wonders he wants to show Yuuri.

Victor doesn’t even take a step to do anything. He just stares, completely open yet completely closed off, looking utterly helpless.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” Yuuri suddenly states, his heart jumping from his throat as it melds itself into the words released into the world. Victor flinches.

“Yuuri,” is all he says, and that isn’t _enough_. Victor makes no action to even appear like he wishes to say more, and that pisses Yuuri off.

They’re still standing near the entrance as well. It’s uncomfortable. It’s unnatural. The air is thick and thin, and the ceiling seems to be slowly crumbling away to collapse on Yuuri, but Yuuri can’t care he can’t care he can’t care because _what’s going on with Victor?_

“Victor,” Yuuri tries again, the strain evident in his voice. Victor doesn’t say a fucking word. “ _Victor_.”

Victor makes no sound. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing. There’s so much _here_ , Yuuri can tell. There’s so much to _say_. There’s so much, but Victor isn’t doing anything at all.

Yuuri feels helpless. He feels like a child, and he feels unimportant. He feels nothing and everything.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Yuuri says then, and Victor’s gaze snaps to him, eye contact finally being established again. Yuuri takes a deep breath and takes another step back. “I don’t know what’s going on, Victor, but I want to know.” Victor clenches his jaw, shaking his head slowly. Yuuri glares at him, but continues nonetheless. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I love you. I love you, Victor. Now, I think I want you to leave.”

Victor’s eyes drop down again, and Yuuri wants to scream to cut the tension between the pair of them. Victor stands there for a few more seconds before nodding and turning back to face the door.

Yuuri begins to panic. No no no no no—Yuuri abruptly grabs onto Victor’s arm, Victor immediately stilling.

“You’re… you’re coming back, Victor,” Yuuri says. He can’t dare himself to ask it. He needs to state it. He needs Victor to know that he has to come back.

A long pause.

Victor gives a short nod, clears his throat, and says, “I love you, Yuuri.”

Pulling away from Yuuri’s grasp on his arm, Victor opens the door and leaves.

As soon as the door shuts, Yuuri collapses, the dark oceans in his mind beginning to flood his very being.

(He can’t stop screaming. He’s shouting, screaming, existing so dreadfully, but at the same time, he says absolutely nothing at all.)

 

 

**.8+**

 

Distance has always been something that Yuuri excelled at especially when the world seemed to start collapsing around him and the air seemed to grasp at his throat. Yuuri’s never had enough relationships of any sort, however, to understand how to fully accept Victor’s distance from him.

Victor isn’t telling him something, and with every slow response, with every hush of tone, with every anxious look, the air only becomes thinner and thinner.

He texts Victor that he wants to see him. It’s been almost a week, and they’ve never gone that long without seeing each other. Yuuri needs to see him, he wants to see him, he _craves_ Victor so much now, and Victor isn’t allowed to just shut himself away like this when he knows how much that messes with Yuuri’s mind.

Victor texts back that he’ll be over soon. Yuuri responds with a red heart.

Victor doesn’t respond at all.

Twenty long minutes later, Yuuri hears knocks on the door, and that alone makes his stomach churn. Victor hasn’t knocked on the door in months. He even has a key. Yuuri stands up shakily, but manages to stumble over to the door to open it.

And there he is. It’s almost nighttime, and Yuuri sees the setting sun contrast against Victor’s shape and soul.

“Victor,” he breathes out, reaching to hug him because Yuuri’s _missed_ him. He’s missed him _so much._ Maybe there are some that would view that as strange. It’s only been a week after all, but nothing has compared to this. Nothing before compares to this, and Yuuri knows his heart is completely captured by Victor. Victor’s told him the same regarding his own.

Victor stiffly hugs him back for a moment, but he quickly melts into the embrace. Yuuri almost starts to cry against his shoulder. He just doesn’t understand what’s been going on. He’s so so worried. So incredibly worried and anxious.

As he pulls back to allow Victor to come in, he starts to smile. He stops abruptly, however, when he sees how sad sad sad sad sad Victor looks. His eyes are downcast, and his posture is still stiff.

It’s obvious to Yuuri then that he doesn’t want to be here.

Yuuri can’t feel his heart beating any longer. Blood rushes to his head, his thoughts overwhelm him completely, and he feels _Time_ starting to swirl around him, and so he falls.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaims, immediately rushing to catch him. Yuuri is hurting so much, and he doesn’t even know _why_.

“Victor, what’s wrong?” he asks, starting to cry. Victor looks guilty. He looks so fucking guilty. And just so so sad. “You’ve been ignoring me,” Yuuri cries. “You’ve been completely and utterly the _worst_ boyfriend!” Victor flinches, but it’s not in a bad way. It’s in a way that starts to calm Yuuri down. He feels guilty. Good. Good.

“Yuuri,” he says, his own voice starting to choke up, and somehow that’s _enough_.

They’re still standing near the entrance as well. It’s uncomfortable. It’s unnatural. Yuuri cries, as he pushes back to try and stand up. Victor rushes to help, and Yuuri accepts it.

“Let’s… let’s go sit on the couch,” Yuuri manages to say through his crying, and Victor nods wordlessly. They make their way to the couch, and both collapse down onto it, practically on top of each other. It’s comforting.

“Victor,” Yuuri tries again, “what’s wrong? Please, I need to know, love.”

Victor purses his lips, looking away guiltily. Yuuri hates this feeling. Yuuri feels helpless. He feels like a child.

Yet he knows he isn’t that at all. Especially when it comes to Victor.

Yuuri brings his hand up to Victor’s cheek, who immediately leans into it. He moves Victor’s gaze toward him, and Yuuri is still crying, but he can pretend for a moment that he’s not.

“Please tell me.”

Victor doesn’t say anything, but his entire body starts to shake, and he starts to openly sob.

“My… my mama is in the hospital. Something happened, and she collapsed. And… and I want to go to her, Yuuri. But… but she doesn’t love me.”

Yuuri’s only vaguely heard of Victor’s mother since they started dating, and Yuuri’s always been curious of course, but he never thought to push it. Victor needs some pushing now though.

“What do you mean?” Yuuri asks, his heart afraid of where this could go. Victor leans into Yuuri, clutching onto him like a life force.

“S-she kicked me out when I was sixteen. Right when I won the World Championship the first time. She… said she didn’t want a fag living in her house,” Victor chokes out, and Yuuri cries for _him_ now. Yuuri says nothing, and Victor goes on. “Yet she told me she still loved me. But she kicked me out, and said I was an embarrassment and that I should return when I’ve learned to love a woman.”

“But… you do love women. You’re bisexual,” Yuri says, talking to himself mainly, and Victor gives a wry laugh.

“She said I was lying, and that I needed to choose one or the other, and when I told her I couldn’t just choose, she kicked me out.” Yuuri nods, his heart hurting so unbearably so. Victor continues to speak. “I can only see her again if I’m with a woman or if I lie to her and say I don’t like men.”

Yuuri swallows down his heart. “Do you want to see her again?”

Victor looks at him then, so insecure, yet so sure. He nods slowly. “I do, yes.”

Yuuri gives a tight nod. “I love you either way. You do whatever you need to do.”

Victor doesn’t move, still just crying softly against Yuuri. Eventually, he nods shakily in return.

“Okay, yeah, thank you.”

 

 

**.9+**

“I just… I know you’re going to leave me, Victor,” Yuuri forces himself to say, and Victor freezes.

“I’m not,” he responds immediately. He takes a step toward Yuuri. “Why would you think that I am?”

“You want to see your mother,” Yuuri says. “You want to see your mother, and for you to do that, you have to leave me, and I-I understand, Victor. It’s okay. Really.”

Victor is frowning, and Yuuri isn’t breathing. Yuuri is drowning, Yuuri is soaring and then falling, Yuuri is simply existing.

“I won’t leave you, Yuuri. You love me. My mother doesn’t,” Victor finally says softly, and Yuuri can tell that he means it. Yuuri can tell that Victor believes that, but Yuuri knows better.

“You are though. And it’s okay, Victor. I don’t know when you are, but… can you please tell me? Please don’t leave without saying goodbye. At least text me or something.”

Victor has finally realized that he shouldn’t be saying things like he won’t leave, but instead comforting Yuuri that if he does, he’ll tell Yuuri and he’ll tell Yuuri how much he really does love him. ( _Time_ nods, hoping it works out this time, it has to work out it has to work out, even the winter fell in love with them.)

“I’ll text you. I promise,” Victor says, “I’m also not leaving though.”

Yuuri decides against any more of this arguing, this bickering. He decides against wasting the time he had left with Victor disagreeing about the future, and instead, moves to lean against him, dragging him down to sit on the couch with him.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore, love,” Yuuri says, and Victor wants to disagree, but he sees the fear in Yuuri’s eyes, and realizes that maybe he should let it go.

“Agreed,” Victor says, and they kiss each other because they love each other.

 

 

**.95+**

Victor is screaming, is sobbing, is yelling with as much force and hurt and horror and guilt and betrayal as anyone when finding out their mother has died.

Yuuri tries to hold him down, and Victor turns and cries against him, sobs wracking throughout his entire body as if an earthquake as erupted within his heart, and Yuuri doesn’t know what else he can _do_ for this lovely man in front of him who deserves nothing except happiness and love, but has felt nothing but sadness and love.

“ _She’s DEAD_!” Victor screams, and Yuuri’s heart is breaking breaking breaking for him, and he holds onto him even tighter, not allowing himself to cry because he has to be strong for Victor, has to be strong for this beautiful man who loves his mother but also hates her.

 _(Time_ would cry too if _Time_ could.)

“She died, and she hates me. She’s disappointed in me. I was never the son she wanted, and she was never the mother I thought she could be, but I loved her, I loved her, I loved her and why is she _dead_ , Yuuri? _Why does she have to be gone?_ ”

Yuuri wishes he could say something like “Your mother loved you for you” or something like “she would have been proud of you,” but Yuuri didn’t know Victor’s mother, and Yuuri doesn’t like to lie to anybody, especially Victor. Maybe if he did say it, it wouldn’t be a lie, but how was Yuuri to know that or not?

He holds him tighter, and wishes for good things to come Victor’s way.

After minutes, hours, days, weeks, Victor finally pulls back, but that passion, that fire, that love that usually exists within his eyes are filled with disgust, with sadness, with horror, and if Yuuri was anybody else, he might have mistaken those feelings to be aimed at him, but Yuuri isn’t anybody else, and has been with Victor for months now, almost a year, knows him almost as well as he knows himself, and Yuuri can see that Victor is disgusted with himself.

Disgusted with himself for hugging a man while crying over his dead mother who hated Victor because he hugged and loved men as well as women.

So, Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor flinches back from Yuuri’s touch, and Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor stands up abruptly and claims that he has to go, and Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor won’t meet his gaze as he kisses Yuuri’s cheek forcefully, and Yuuri isn’t surprised when he rushes out of the room, the door slamming shut, and Yuuri isn’t surprised by his own heart breaking with every action, but it still hurts like _hell_.

Yuuri isn’t surprised when he starts to cry for himself and for Victor for hours and hours afterwards.

Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor later texts him that he’s gotten on a plane to go back home and that he loves him, but he can’t do it right now.

Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor doesn’t text him anything again for a long long long time.

Yuuri isn’t surprised Yuuri isn’t surprised Yuuri isn’t surprised, but his heart has shattered shattered shattered.

 

 

**.96+**

It’s almost one in the afternoon apparently when Yuuri wakes up. His phone was ringing, and Yuuri doesn’t know who could possibly be calling him now. (He’s not important he’s not important he’s not important.)

Another second passes, however, and Yuuri stills, wondering if… maybe possibly… could it be? He reaches for his phone, and doesn’t dare to look at the contact name as he brings it up to his ear.

“Hello?” he asks, and deep down, he already knows who it is, already knew who it was since the ringtone Yuuri hadn’t heard in so long woke him up.

“Yuuri,” Victor says, and Yuuri _misses_ him. Yuuri doesn’t sit up, and doesn’t move his legs or arms or anything like that. He just remains still and with one cheek pressed against the pillow, he finally allows for himself to breathe.

“Victor,” Yuuri responds shakily, and Victor gives a wry laugh then. It’s full of love though, and Yuuri tries not to notice that.

“I’m calling,” he said. Yuuri smiles at that, and briefly wishes he could hate Victor forever and immediately hang up, but knows why he left, even urged him to leave, understands that family plays an important role in people’s lives, understands what his mother dying meant to Victor.

He wonders if Victor has learned to accept himself better.

(He doesn’t dare ask. Not right now. Not in the first phone call in months.)

“You’re calling,” Yuuri repeats because maybe he himself doesn’t quite believe it yet. Maybe he still thinks he’s dreaming. Maybe this is a dream, but even if it was, it’s better than the nightmares he keeps having.

“I missed you,” Victor says. “I’ve missed you since before I left, Yuuri.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri breathes out. “Yeah, I know.” And Victor is finally saying the right things. Victor is finally saying the things that Yuuri wants and needs to hear.

“I love you dearly,” Victor continues on to say, “I miss you, and I want to hug you, and I want to remember what you smell like, and I want to come home.”

“Not now, Victor,” Yuuri finds himself saying, afraid that Victor is still lying to himself. “Have you found who you are?”

Victor’s breath catches, and that alone is enough for Yuuri to know that Victor still needs time away from him. Victor still needs to learn who he is and accept things about himself that Yuuri simply cannot help him with no matter how much he wishes he could try.

“Yuuri….” Victor starts to say.

Yuuri cuts him off. “I don’t want you to come home right now, Victor. Come home when it’s ready for you to come home, Victor.”

Yuuri tries not to focus on Victor not considering Russia as his home any longer. Yuuri tries not to focus on Victor’s short breaths, and fearful stammering.

“I love you, Victor,” Yuuri says, and he means it. He will always mean it.

“I love you, Yuuri,” Victor says, and Yuuri knows he means it. (Always? Yuuri doesn’t know.)

“Call again, Victor,” Yuuri says, and Victor is halfway through saying “Of course” when Yuuri ends the call.

(Yuuri is strong Yuuri is strong Yuuri is strong.

It doesn’t feel like it at all.)

 

 

**.97+**

 

“Yuuri,” Victor says immediately when Yuuri picks up the phone. They’d been talking over the phone for a long while now, but this is different, this is guilt, this is dread, this is love that is lost, and Yuuri’s breath catches.

“Victor?” he asks. Does he want to know? No, no, he doesn’t want to know. He has to know he needs to know he must know.

And then Victor starts to cry. Not the kind of crying that’s loud, not the kind of crying that can’t be heard, but the kind of crying that’s more like choking, that’s more like horror and guilt, the kind of crying Yuuri doesn’t want to heart.

“Victor?” he tries again, his heart stuck in his throat. He doesn’t want to know he doesn’t want to know he doesn’t want to know. “What is it?”

“I don’t deserve forgiveness, and I-I don’t deserve you,” Victor chokes out, and Yuuri _does not want to know this_.

“Victor, tell me,” he says. ( _Time_ looks away, knowing what comes next.)

“My mother introduced me to some woman a while ago, Yuuri. She isn’t important, she isn’t important, but my mother introduced her to me and said it was her dying wish for me to meet a woman and fall in love with her, and my mother, my mother has already died, Yuuri.” Yuuri can’t breathe. Yuuri can’t speak. Yuuri can’t move a muscle, and he tries so very hard to ignore his own tears starting to fall. Victor goes on. “I slept with her, Yuuri. I slept with this woman who isn’t important to me. I slept with her, and she stayed the night, and I did it for my mother, who I imagined would have smiled in response and said that she was finally proud of me, and I smiled because of that, Yuuri. I smiled because I made my dead mother proud, but I don’t know who I am living for, Yuuri. I slept with someone who means absolutely nothing to me while someone who means absolutely everything to me was across the world, knowing nothing, but probably feeling everything painful because of me.”

Yuuri is crying, he knows he is, but he still can’t say a word. He knows why Victor did it. He knows they weren’t technically together anymore. He knows it’s been a gradual build up back to the relationship he thought they could have had. He knows all of this, but fuck, it hurts _so goddamned much_.

“Yuuri, there is nothing that I could say to make up for this, but I will say that I love you with all of my heart, I will say that you are the sky, the sea, the sun and the moon, the whole fucking _universe_ to me, and you can walk away and leave for the rest of my life, but I’ll be waiting for you.”

Yuuri should have expected this earlier on. He knows he isn’t worth anything, not worth Victor’s time, not worth Victor’s love. He should have expected this. He should have expected this. Why didn’t he ignore his heart, and follow his thoughts?

Why didn’t he listen to the sad boy who’s always been nothing but hurt? Why did he listen to the happy boy inside of him that has smiled only recently and meant it.

Yuuri’s heart feels like it’s breaking into pieces of meaningless words and lies.

“I love you, Victor,” Yuuri says because throughout it all, he does. He knows Victor loves him too. He knows Victor isn’t much himself right now either with his mother having dying and all. He knows Victor didn’t cheat on him, but fuck, it _feels_ like he did.

It _feels_ like Victor doesn’t care for him at all. It _feels_ like the worst sort of pain in the world, and Yuuri can’t bring himself to comfort Victor, can’t bring himself to comfort his own miserable self, can’t bring himself to want to be alive right now, but can’t bring himself to kill himself either.

Yuuri hears Victor gasp, and he knows he’s going to feel the need to explain more, to apologize more, to be the best person that Victor is and will always be, but Yuuri can’t do it right now, can’t allow his heart to break more than it has.

Yuuri hangs up.

 

 

**.98+**

“This is the last time I want to talk to you for a while, Victor,” Yuuri says. “Don’t say anything. Let me talk. And then let me go. Okay?”

“Okay,” Victor says, and nothing else. Yuuri nods, and gives a sad smile. He knows Victor can’t see him, but he also knows Victor is right here beside him.

“I love you, Victor. I’ve loved you for over a year now, and I understand why you did the things you did. I understand your feelings and I understand you, and I forgive you.” Victor’s breath catches, but he doesn’t say anything. Yuuri is pleased he doesn’t. “I forgive you. I’d forgiven you months ago, Victor. Before you even left, but I stepped back for my own feelings. I love you so dearly, Victor, and I know that you love me too, but for where we are now… where we are in our minds and emotions, we, together, would be too much for each other. We would ruin each other. Now,” Yuuri takes a deep breath, “I’m not saying we should never get together again. I’m not saying I’ve stopped loving you because I haven’t. I’m not saying we won’t ever be good for each other because we would be the _best_ together just as we had been in the past, Victor. But I need _Time_. I need for our moments together to completely stop for a bit. I need you to truly realize that loving men holds no wrong bearings, and I know that might be selfish to some, but I know you understand why. I need for you to be completely and utterly okay with our love, Victor. You’ve always been reserved about it, which I understand. I _understand_ , and with the recent events with your mother, you’ve been beaten down. I’m sorry. I’m sorry it had to be like that, my love.”

Yuuri takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes as he does his best to keep away thoughts of Victor being beside him, holding him, loving him so fully. Not now not now not now.

“If we are meant to meet again, Victor, I believe that with _Time_ , we can become the very best for each other and for ourselves. Do you understand?”

He knows Victor does. Victor is so smart, and so capable, and so much better than Yuuri, and both communicate so well with each other because they _understand_ each other.

“I do, Yuuri, yeah, I understand,” Victor says. “Can I speak now?”

Yuuri doesn’t say anything.

“I think you’re right, Yuuri. I agree, and I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish I didn’t grow up hating myself for liking men, and I wish so many things regarding my mama… but life didn’t go that way, and here we are, and I love you so much, and I can’t wait to meet you again in the future, Yuuri. Because I believe that we’ll meet again. Most definitely. And I can’t wait to live my entire life showing love like never before, Yuuri Katsuki.”

Yuuri smiles against the phone, and his heart hurts, but his heart is filled with relief and love and acceptance.

“I love you, Victor Nikiforov.”

“I love you, Yuuri Katsuki.”

The phone call ends, and their future begins.

 

 

**.99+**

 

Yuuri decides to leave Japan to travel with himself and for himself across the world he has barely seen but a tiny part of. He decides to travel to look for something, perhaps love for himself, perhaps acceptance, perhaps culture or even food, he doesn’t know. He’s searching for places and wishes to travel amongst them. He needs a change of scenery.

He needs different versions of winters, different versions of springs and summers, different versions of autumns. He needs different seas and oceans to look at, he needs different viewpoints of the moon and sun, he needs different anything unlike what Victor meant to him. He’s not trying to run away from Victor.

He has confidence they will find each other again, somehow, someway in the future, but not right now because right now, they love each other too much to truly love each other well, and they need to be apart, far from each other.

Yuuri keeps telling Victor to find himself, but perhaps Yuuri needs to find himself as well.

He says goodbye to his mom, to his sister, and friends, and boards a plane, and travels to anywhere and everywhere.

He feels that _Time_ is with him for this journey. He hopes he’s correct.

(He is, _Time_ notes amusedly.)

 

 

**1.0+**

Summer is the absolute worst season, and he doesn’t know why the earth’s rotation and cycle bother to include it at all. Especially in South America. He’s only been here for a few months as opposed to the years in Australia, and then Africa. Yuuri is almost thirty years old, and maybe that’s saying something about something, but he still enjoys travelling just as much as he did when he started at twenty-four. Yuuri has picked up a few different phrases in different languages since then, and he’s happy he’s gotten to meet as many people as he has.

(He’s also glad he learned English in school, and improved it upon meeting V—)

There’s no ice in South America. At least not right now. Summertime has always been Yuuri’s least favorite season, but perhaps he’s a little biased with how much he loves winter and with how much winter loves him.

The last time he told someone that, they looked at him quite strangely, and Yuuri only laughed.

He goes to North America today, and perhaps he’s a bit sad that he is to leave South America so soon, so much still to be travelled, but he wants to be home for his thirtieth birthday next year and he promised his sister that he’d visit California and take pictures for her.

(She just wants to see pictures of those classic American surfer men that she fawns over in movies.)

When Yuuri arrives at the airport, it’s loud and crowded and maybe Yuuri should be used to this, but he isn’t and he dislikes it as always.

His plane departs in an hour, and once he gets through security and eats something, it’s time for him to leave, and well, Yuuri has never been to California, so hopefully, it is at least a little bit like what the world praises it as.

He’s able to sit first class on his travels now as he makes money off his travels and makes money teaching things his degree allows him to teach. (He also came into a large amount of money a few years back, and he knows who it’s from, but he doesn’t like to think about it.)

In first class, all the seats are secluded from the other and Yuuri sees that he’s one of the first ones on the plane. The hostess offers him a variety of drinks, and Yuuri only asks for a water, as he settles himself into the plane’s comforts. The waitress drops off a menu as other passengers start to board, but Yuuri is too tired to focus on them and turns so others are unable to see him. He just wants some peace for once. He falls asleep easily.

He wakes a few hours later to a jolt in the plane, and his eyes open, taking in the darkness outside the window, and he asks a flight attendant for some more water, which she seems happy to provide.

“Thank you so much,” Yuuri says, and she nods, giddy to do something. She seems bored, and Yuuri knows that feeling all too well, so he continues conversation with her.

“How long have you been a flight attendant?” he asks.

“Oh, this has to be my… sixth year, perhaps?” she says.

“Why did you want to become one?” he asks, smiling, as he takes gradual sips from his water.

“Well, my boyfriend left me, and then took all of my stuff with him, and I decided I wanted to get away, and I had just seen an ad online about becoming a flight attendant was the best way to go for some reason. I haven’t regretted it since,” she says, smiling widely. Yuuri’s heart pangs at the mention of an ex-boyfriend.

“I’m happy for you. It seems you found yourself in a sense, right?” he asks, hoping that doesn’t sound pretentious. He’s been told that before. Insecurities still drive him, but not nearly as much as before.

“I did, yes,” she laughs. “How about yourself?”

Yuuri looks out the window. “I would like to think so, yeah. I think I have found myself, whatever that even means.”

She becomes silent for a moment, as if distracted by something else in the cabin. Probably another person waking up and asking for water or something.

“I’m glad. I must go tend to someone else right now. I am sorry. I’ll be right back.”

Yuuri smiles at her. “It’s okay. I’ll probably just fall asleep again.”

She laughs, but heads off anyway. Yuuri settles back into his seat, wonders briefly if he should eat something, and just as he decided to sleep instead, the hostess is back. She looks nervous, and a blush is on her cheeks. Yuuri hopes this isn’t what he thinks it is.

“Uhm… can I ask you your name?” she asks. Yuuri blinks at her.

“Yuuri,” he responds. She nods, and excuses herself again, apologizing profusely. Yuuri just stares at the empty spot where she stood, but makes no move to do anything else. He puts his feet up on the seat in front of him. Is it even a seat? Perhaps it classifies more as a foot stool? Yuuri sighs, just wanting to sleep, but a shadow is back by the opening, and Yuuri wonders briefly what is happening.

Yuuri turns slowly as he says, “I think I’m going to just get some sleep now so it’s okay, don’t worry about m—”

“Yuuri,” Victor says, and Yuuri’s entire fucking world stops turning.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, and Yuuri’s _missed_ him so much, and Yuuri hasn’t seen him in _years_ and _years_ , and then Yuuri is crying because he’s thought of him twice today, and that’s less than usual so he briefly thought that maybe he had been falling out of love with him, but no, of course not, of course not, how could he think something so foolish? “ _Victor_.”

Victor collapses against him, and he realizes, belatedly, that the fool in front of him is crying as well, and they grasp at each other, and they realize with the passion in their hands, the warmth in their cheeks, the understanding between their souls just how much they still love each other.

“I found you,” Victor whispers reverently against Yuuri’s neck, and Yuuri shivers, briefly hoping that that flight attendant isn’t staring at them.

“And yourself?” Yuuri asks, even though he already _knows_.

Victor laughs, so happy and so astounded. “I found myself too.”

Yuuri laughs, so relieved and happy. “I’m so so glad.”

Yuuri kisses him, and they sigh against each other, having been in a drought for too long now.

“I love you always,” Yuuri whispers against Victor’s lips.

“I love you always,” Victor responds, smiling, as he allows Yuuri to straddle him. He moved like a dying angel. He moved like the waking waves. He moved like all the good things to come, and the bad things that remain in the past.

( _Time_ smiled, and the seasons cheered in response, the winter smugly looking at the summer, but the summer ignores the winter to love instead.

Even _Time_ fell in love with them.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so which one did you like better? did you like it better chronologically or how I originally wrote it?? :)))
> 
> have a great day!!!

**Author's Note:**

> yay, you finished, congrats :) hopefully, you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> if you want to read it in chronological order and/or are curious about how it reads that way, head onto the next chapter! :) it's the same story, but presented differently, and I think it's rather neat. :)))
> 
> come check me out on my tumblr - iwannapandanamedchubs  
> or my victuuri tumblr - literallynothingbutvictuuri
> 
> :)


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